


A Hope and Expectation of Ruin

by Meridians_of_Madness



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Communication, Consent Play, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fallen Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Subspace, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridians_of_Madness/pseuds/Meridians_of_Madness
Summary: The Angel Crowley is insatiably curious, and the Demon Aziraphale just needs to know the rules.Written for the kink meme prompt foundhere.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 93





	A Hope and Expectation of Ruin

“Really?” asked Aziraphale, slit pupils going almost round in interest. _“Never?”_

“Well, whoever would I have done it with?” Crowley said, a trifle defensively. “Back in the old days, it wasn't as if I could stop over to get a good seeing-to after doing my _be not afraid_ bit, they were a bit tighter on time sheets back then. And then when I became more of a free agent, there was always so very much to do.”

“Ah yes, so very many engineers to buy drinks for, so many pretty vehicles to fawn over, so many towers to build and then topple,” Aziraphale said, but there was barely any sharpness to it at all. “And in all those years, never did you never stop, and, ah, how do I put it-”

“Delicately, if you love me, demon,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale softened quite a lot.

“And you never thought you might like that lovely innocence of yours roughed up, even slightly?”

Curled up on the most comfortable chair in Aziraphale's basement apartment, a suite at the Ritz entirely subterranean and wholly without windows, Crowley found it easier than he would have thought to speak.

“I thought about it once or twice. Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Aziraphale echoed, and if he had been in his cat form, Crowley knew that the tip of his fluffy white tail would be twitching even as the rest of his body held perfectly still. “How _marvelous.”_

“Well, curiosity _was_ one of mine,” Crowley felt compelled to say. “It's only natural, isn't it? To have a thing so very lovingly designed for pleasure and then to wonder, sometimes, at night, on my own, what it might be like.”

“Oh, it's wonderful when its done right,” Aziraphale said with a supreme amount of confidence. “Positively lovely. Certainly in _my_ top ten.”

And then he fell silent, and Crowley took another sip of his tokay, just dry enough to bear the sweetness. If Aziraphale had gone on, chattering about that position or this toy, it would have been easy enough to resist, but he was too clever for that and Crowley wondered, as he had so often through the years, why he resisted at all.

“Do you like it better than you like forging first editions?”

“Oh, much.”

“What about free meals?”

“Yes.”

“Sleeping?”

“Sometimes, I like sleeping a little more, but not often.”

“What about-”

“My dear,” said Aziraphale softly, “there really is only one thing I like better, so why don't you just say what you like?”

Crowley hunched further into the chair, taking another hurried sip from his glass.

“I like a lot of things, demon,” he started, and almost casually, Aziraphale put down his book and started towards him from across the room.

“I know you do. You like fast cars.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“And you like hydraulics and gears.”

“Very much.”

“And fixing things. You positively adore fixing things.”

“Aziraphale ...”

To Crowley's surprise, Aziraphale stopped short of looming over him as he slouched in the chair and instead dropped to his knees on the ground. It should have been supplicating, perhaps Aziraphale even meant for it to be so, but his blue eyes glowed with just the opposite of humility.

“You would like sex, too,” Aziraphale said, making Crowley blush a little.

“You're blunt today,” he muttered.

“Can be, darling. When I want something.”

“And … you want something now?”

Aziraphale laughed, some of the sensuality whipping away to reveal the surprised hunter underneath.

“You talk to me of how there's a dominion in my own home, Heaven's most clever, most shining-”

“Oh, _please_ don't.”

“-and you thought there wasn't a chance I'd want to absolutely ruin that?”

“I don't _want_ to be ruined!” Crowley burst out, and then he blushed red, more humiliated than he thought he would be.

“This- this was a mistake, wasn't it? I'm .. I'm sorry, I need to go, I need to –“

He put both feet on the ground, ready to charge out and and spend the next two hundred years designing beetles or plankton or something, but before he could, Aziraphale propped himself up on top of Crowley's knees, leaning in, his weight impressive even for his size, and Crowley couldn't move at all.

 _I could,_ he thought. _Of course I could. We both know I'm stronger, I could._

He didn't.

“All right,” said Aziraphale softly. “So I won't ruin you.”

“Then -”

“Perhaps I could just … dirty you up a little. Where it won't show. Like some wine stains on a sofa cushion that could just be flipped over.”

“You would still know it was there,” Crowley felt compelled to point out.

“But I wouldn't mind if the wine was good enough,” Aziraphale said with a smile.

“Is it?” Crowley asked, his voice small.

Aziraphale's gaze swept him up and down, frankly appreciative, perhaps a little adoring, and most of all _hungry_.

“Oh, my dear, yes. More than good enough to allow a few stains on the upholstery”

Crowley had danced back and forth over the line so much over the millennia that it was more a smudge than a line anymore, but he hesitated, would likely be hesitating until doomsday if Aziraphale hadn't leaned up and nuzzled his face. Not a kiss, that would have frightened him out of his wits, but the gentle brush of Aziraphale's cheek against his, the sly whisper of his breath along his jaw, he _knew_ that, loved it, and his hands came up to settle on Aziraphale's shoulders, fingers knitting fretfully into the fabric.

“You can't... You-”

Everyone knew that it was for Heaven to set boundaries and for Hell to crack them open, and Aziraphale only sat patiently, waiting for Crowley to get the line out.

“Not _ruined,”_ he said desperately, and Aziraphale nodded, a small sigh puffing against Crowley's throat.

“All right,” he said. “Decide right now how far I can go.”

“Can't I just-”

“No,” Aziraphale said with just a hint of a rueful smile in his voice. “Believe me. No. Tell me now.”

Crowley's face felt too hot, and he didn't know what to do with his hands so he knotted them together in front of him.

“Well. Um. No kissing on the mouth?”

“Entirely fair,” said Aziraphale soothingly. “What else?”

“Don't... don't put anything in me?”

Aziraphale tilted his head, blinking slowly at him.

“Are you asking me or telling me not to put anything in you?”

“I'm telling you?”

“Darling thing. So don't slide my cock into that pretty mouth of yours, don't find out how far my tongue goes up inside you...?”

“Aziraphale!”  
“Oh, all right. I shan't tease. So nothing inside you. Is there anything else?”

Crowley's heart was beating too fast for him to think at all clearly, but he forced himself to puzzle it through, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Aziraphale knelt in front of him as if he were ready to pounce.

It _sounded_ all right. It was plausibly deniable like so many of the things they did together were.

“Promise you won't do anything I don't like?” he asked, and Aziraphale's smile fell away for a moment. He reached up to ruffle his fingers through Crowley's short hair.

“I try not to, as a matter of policy,” he said quietly. “But all right, yes. I promise. May I have you now, dearest?”

Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale immediately leaned up, placing the softest, tenderest kiss on his cheek.

“There,” he whispered in Crowley's ear. “Nothing so terrifying, yes?”

“No,” Crowley admitted, because it was nice, wasn't it? Just skin to skin, a trill of silvery delight running through his corporation. Sweet, a little silly, no need for alarm at all.

“Good.”

Aziraphale continued kissing him, sweet and lovely kisses all over his face, and Crowley whimpered when Aziraphale kissed the corner of his mouth, the demon's sly tongue coming out to tease the sensitive skin there. Crowley clung to Aziraphale's broad shoulders, and he let out a slow breath.

“Aziraphale?”

“It's not your mouth, is it?” asked Aziraphale.

“No, but... maybe it could be?”

“Oh, but of course it couldn't. You said no.”

“I did...” Crowley said reluctantly, and then Aziraphale was kissing a path down his throat, raising Crowley's chin so he could access all the sensitive flesh there. His touch was delicate, nothing cruel or brutish as he unbuttoned Crowley's shirt and revealed Crowley's chest and belly.

“What a perfect delight you are, my dear. Absolutely delicious, and I will not ruin you at all, I swear.”

“On what?” asked Crowley, a little dazed and slumped back low in the chair. “What will you swear on?”

He gasped when Aziraphale took a judicious bite at his nipple, light and sharp, and then Aziraphale looked up at him with a smile.

“Shall I swear on Satan?”

“No... no, not him.”

Aziraphale leaned into bite gently on the other nipple, a sharpness just shy of pain and wholly delicious.

“Then on -”

“No, not Her!”

“My sword?”

Aziraphale closed his hand between Crowley's legs, snug and familiar as if he quite owned him, and Crowley shuddered, his hands digging into the arms of the chair.

“No!”

“Propose the oath, my lord,” Aziraphale said, and there was something serious about him this time, somewhat more a demon than he had been a moment before.

“You won't hurt me. You won't ruin me. _Please.”_

“And on the head and heart of the Dominion Crowley, who built the walls of Eden and set the charges at Babylon, I do so swear: I will never hurt you, and I will never ruin you.”

The oath struck Crowley like a blow, and all he could do was reach for Aziraphale, needing to kiss the words straight out of his fanged mouth, to drink it down and swallow it so he could keep it safe, but Aziraphale pulled his head back, a grin on his lips.

“No kissing on the mouth, you said.”

“I-”

He yelped when Aziraphale reached down and simply tore his jeans open, half dragging them down to his knees in the same motion. His cock was already hard, and it throbbed when Aziraphale closed his hand around it.

“Nothing inside you, I remember,” Aziraphale said as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and he bent down to take just the tip of Crowley's cock between his lips. It was hot and wet and only imperfect because Crowley needed so much more.

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale, come on,” he said, mortified that a whining note had come into his voice, and Aziraphale pulled back, his eyes soft and adoring.

“Is that too much, darling?” he asked sympathetically. “Do you not like it?”

“I do, it's good,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale didn't wait for more before he dropped his head again. He worked his mouth down on Crowley's cock in short, smooth motions, every time going a fraction deeper.

Crowley's fingers slid through Aziraphale's hair, grasping, not quite brave enough to pull, but unwilling to give up more of the demon than he had to. It was too good, and he dug his heels into the floor so he could more firmly push up into Aziraphale's mouth.

The pleasure rose up in him without his looking for it, utterly perfect and utterly irresistible, but then Aziraphale pulled back, leaving Crowley whimpering with need.

“That's a nice beginning,” he said, inspecting Crowley's straining wet cock as if it a fake First Folio he was considering adding to his collection. “I do rather nice work, don't I?”  
“You do, just... please...”

“I'd love to push a finger or two inside you when I have you in my mouth,” Aziraphale said with a wistful sigh. “I would love to see how you clenched around just that while I sucked on your cock. I can imagine you, desperate and writhing like that, just over two fingers...”

Now Crowley could imagine it too, how gentle Aziraphale would be fitting his fingers inside while his mouth covered Crowley's cock. He was desperate over just Aziraphale's lips, what might he do if Aziraphale started to open him with that same fascinated look in his eyes?

“Aziraphale...”

“But of course we're not going to do that,” Aziraphale said earnestly. “You said no, and darling, I never want to hurt you.”

He wanted to point out that he was so hard it almost hurt, but then Aziraphale was raising him up to his feet.

“I think you don't need your clothes any longer,” he said, and he started to methodically undress Crowley. Crowley thought he should help him, but there was something he wanted, maybe even something he needed, about being in Aziraphale's hands, having the demon move him as necessary. By the time he was naked and barefoot on the rug, a slightly dazed, almost sleepy sensation had come over him. Aziraphale gave him a considering look, steadying him with one hand cupping his cheek.

“Crowley?”  
“Hm?”

“I want you to say something for me, all right?”

“Mm. Okay. What do you want me to say?”

“Say, _stop, I don't like this.”_

Crowley jumped, frowning at Aziraphale and suddenly more himself.

“But I do-”

“I know. But say it for me, please.”

“ _Stop, I don't like this,”_ Crowley said sullenly, and Aziraphale smiled, leaning in to kiss him right on the corner of his mouth as his hand went down between Crowley's legs, stroking him firmly again.

“Very good, my own. Now just remember that you know how to say that.”

Crowley muttered something vaguely assenting, but stopping was the furthest thing from his mind when Aziraphale was making him feel this good.

This time when his desires started to twist him, it was a slower thing, a low build and a rising tide rather than a rush of heat. He was being carried along, stood up in front of Aziraphale and pleasured at Aziraphale's whim.

He was lost to it for a while, nearly out of his head, and then, bless him, Aziraphale stopped. Crowley uttered a wordless moan, and Aziraphale hugged him, kissing his shoulder and his throat.

“It's all right, darling, it's just fine,” he said soothingly. “I'll take very good care of you, won't I?”

“ _Will_ you?” asked Crowley, aware he was being brattish, but Aziraphale only laughed.

“Of course I will. All you have to do is put your hands on the arm of the chair.”

Without thinking, Crowley obeyed, frowning when he realized how it bent him over with his back to Aziraphale. He almost rose up, but then Aziraphale was pressed to his back, one hand coming down to grasp Crowley's cock again. This time, however, his palm was slick with something cool and terribly slippery. Crowley groaned at how good it felt, wet and smooth and hot and perfect, and he rocked into Aziraphale's fist as Aziraphale peppered kisses down his spine.

“You utterly perfect thing,” Aziraphale muttered, his voice hoarse. “Do you know what I would like to do to you now? Do you know what I wish I could do?”

“Tell me...”

“I want to ruin you,” Aziraphale informed him, his hand tightening even further. “Utterly, completely. Mark you and fill you and _tear_ you until you're only mine.”

Crowley whined, but he couldn't stop thrusting into Aziraphale's hand. He could feel that urge rising up in Aziraphale as if it were love, that uniquely feline urge to show ownership through destruction and to receive affection as forgiveness.

He tried to stand up when Aziraphale pulled his hand away, but Aziraphale was only opening his own trousers, slicking his cock before pushing Crowley back down. His hand came forward, stroking Crowley with an almost soothing motion. Now his cock was pressed tight between Crowley's cheeks, pushing against his hole.

“Aziraphale-!”

“Shhh. I would never, it's all right, sweetness, it's just fine, pretty thing...”

Fine or not, Crowley couldn't stop himself from pushing back against Aziraphale, the press of Aziraphale's cock just as good as the tight close of his fist.

 _I'd let him,_ Crowley thought, muddled with heat and desire. _I'd let him, I'd like it, I'd forgive it..._

It was that thought along with the ache in his center that set on him like teeth, and between one moment and another, he couldn't take anymore. He shuddered into Aziraphale's grasp, his whole body shaking and needy and drowned in earthly pleasure so intense that black spots danced in front of his eyes, that his knees went weak.

He might have fallen if not for Aziraphale's hands on his hips dragging him back against the demon's body. Aziraphale was breathing faster now, growling and murmuring his name, telling him it was all right, that he was fine and good and perfect. Crowley slumped in his grasp and took in the pleasure of Aziraphale's cock pressed so close against him and of Aziraphale's body shaking for him.

When Aziraphale came, it was a rush of heat and wetness that pulsed against him and ran down his thighs, messy in a way that he knew he would dislike in a few moments but utterly perfect in the present. Aziraphale lowered him slowly to the floor and came to sit next to him, ruffling Crowley's hair with his fingers.

“Well?” he asked, and Crowley had to try twice before he managed to speak. His throat had gone cold from his cries and the thought of that made him flush with a sleepy, slow pleasure.

“Maybe,” he said, “maybe next time we could give it a try.”

“Give what a try?”

“Ruining me,” he said, and he pressed his cheek against Aziraphale's thigh to feel his rumbling pleased purr.


End file.
